


Courtesy is a Lady's Armor

by FromTheBoundlessSea



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Erebor Never Fell, Arranged Marriage, Baby Dwarves, Bilbo Baggins is too good for this world, Consort Bilbo Baggins, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarven Politics, Dwobbit Bilbo Baggins, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Female Ori, Frerin Lives, Frerin is a bit of a jerk, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Hobbits in Erebor, Lots of it, Miscommunication, One step forward two steps back, Politics, Sort of Cinderella with a big twist, Stubborn Dwarves, Young Bilbo Baggins, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-12 13:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromTheBoundlessSea/pseuds/FromTheBoundlessSea
Summary: Peony Baggins does not feel like she belongs in the mountain. Ever since her parents died she has longed to return to the Shire and be around the kinder hobbitfolk.However, after a misunderstanding, she is dragged into the politics of Erebor and the royal family and married to a dwarf who doesn’t even want to be married.Caught in a world she never wanted to be a part of, Peony must use all of her hobbit courtesy to stay afloat while slowly beginning to find herself at home.(I’m going to rework the summary later)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because what else do I need besides another hobbit story?
> 
> I was talking with ISeeFire and I realized I didn’t have an arranged marriage fic and decided to run with it!
> 
> Hope you guys like it!

_ “Amad?” _

_ “Yes, my darling?” Bel looked down to her little jewel, who was crawling up onto her lap. _

_ “Why did you come to the Shire?” _

_ Bel chuckled. “You already know why.” _

_ “I want you to tell it again,” he daughter pouted. Her child was growing at the rate of a dwarf, however her size was that of a hobbit. Bel had been concerned at first, but Bungo had said she was the same size as his nephew would have been. _

_ Bel smiled and wrapped her arms around her daughter as the little girl settled on her lap. “I came to the Shire in order to learn the history of hobbits. There are almost no hobbits in the East and they are so very different from the hobbits of the West. I wished to learn of Western hobbits and their ways.” _

_ “Why are Eastern and Western hobbits different?” _

_ “Eastern hobbits know more of war and politics. Western hobbits have found themselves in times of peace for a long time.” _

_ Her daughter scrunched up her nose in thought. “Like dwarrow?” _

_ “Yes. But there are so few Eastern hobbits left. Many have come West and others married dwarrow or men.” _

_ “Do you like it here in the Shire?” _

_ “It’s where I met your papa and had you. I love it here.” _

_ “Would you ever go back to Erebor?” _

_ “Only if you and your papa come with me, my darling, but I prefer it here.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ Bel chuckled. Her daughter was so inquisitive. “Because everyone is so honest here.” _

_ “Are people not honest in Erebor?” _

_ “They… they have different rules in Erebor. Dams play different roles. You cannot always say what you mean and sometimes others do not always mean what they say.” _

_ “That’s confusing.” _

_ Bel smiled. “It is. I like that, here in the Shire, everyone is honest. They might tell a fib or two, but it isn’t usually harmful. Hobbits are gentle and honest folk and I think the world would be better for it if more people were like your papa.” _

_ Her daughter gave her a toothy smile. “I’m going to be just like Papa when I grow up.” _

_ “I’m sure you will.” _

_ “Amad?” _

_ “Yes, my darling?” _

_ “When _ will _ I grow up? Lobelia is already bigger than me.” _

_ “You’ll age a little more slowly,” Bel said, stroking her daughter’s hair. “You’ll age like me. So the people your age will be bigger before you are.” _

_ The little girl sighed dramatically. “I wished there were more people like me.” _

_ Bel smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head. _

—

“Wake up!”

The order was redundant since Peony had been dressed and awake for an hour or so already, but she did not allude to such. Those _ hour or so _ moments were her sanctuary. 

“I will be ready soon, Adrina,” Peony called, setting her book down. It was a history of how the dwarrow fought against the dragon Smaug and defended the mountain against the darkness. It was a fascinating read, even though she had it memorized since she was a child, when her amad had told her the tale orally.

Her late mother had been a lowly scribe, with only one book ever being admitted into the great library of Erebor. The dam’s book was lost amongst the thousands of other first hand accounts of the Battle of Dwarrow and Dragon, but Peony liked her amad’s version the best. It was all she had of her mother now too. 

Peony looked at herself in the mirror and did her best to cover her ears with her wild curls. 

Being a dwobbit wasn’t looked down soon as much as it used to be, but they were still considered to be rare in the mountain. Most chose to live in the West, and any even close to Erebor usually prefered to live in Dale. Peony, however, was barely sixty and a dam. She wasn’t really allowed to make such a choice, especially when her guardians preferred her to stay as out of sight and out of mind as possible. 

Peony had wanted to stay in the Shire, in Bag End, but her father’s family had thought it would be better for her to live with her mother’s sister and husband so she could have a normal childhood and friends who would not outgrow her. She had seen their logic, but she preferred the grass and sunshine to the stone and darkness of the mountain. This place was not her home and she feared nothing would ever make it so. 

Covering her pointed ears as much as possible, Peony made her way out of her room in the abandoned maid quarters and scurried to the entrance of her family’s wing where her cousin, Adrina was waiting for her. 

Adrina was the epitome of dwarves beauty, or so Peony was told. Her long wavy hair was the color of garnet and her eyes were like sapphires. She had a strong jaw and her figure usually had a few dwarrow take a second glance as they passed. Peony was none of those things. Her hair was the color of clay and eyes of dull grass. Her chin was small and was too curvy and chubby to be considered attractive. She looked too much like her father, everyone told her so, even those who had not known him. 

“Finally,” Adrina rolled her eyes and shoved her shopping basket into Peony’s arms. 

Peony followed after her cousin as they made their way from their wing of _ very _minor nobles to the market. It wasn’t exactly a festival, but the latest fashions of Erebor were being presented in the stalls, the trending fabrics and patterns, as well as the latest jewelry from the Iron Hills. Adrina always had to have the latest fashion and that was a lot to carry, so Peony always had to come along. Mahal or Yavanna forbid Adrina wore herself out when she didn’t have a job to get to later in the afternoon. 

Peony worked in the great library as a bookkeeper. Her father had been apt at restoring books and keeping them in order and she worked as an archivist, usually holed away amongst the books to make certain no one was mishandling them. Dwarrow, as a whole, weren’t exactly a scholarly sort, so her work wasn’t really that hard. Even so, she would prefer to be surrounded by books than the fabric Adrina was currently placing in the basket. 

A lot of Durin blue.

Most unattached dams were trying to catch the eye of some lord or another. Adrina probably wanted the prince, but Peony doubted it would be possible. They didn’t really run in similar circles. However, if it meant that her cousin would no longer need her services, Peony would be happy for her cousin to get married to whomever she liked well enough. Perhaps she would be allowed to return to the Shire. Or perhaps she might be able to travel to Rivendell and see their great libraries. 

“Peony!”

Her attention returned to her cousin who was shoving a dress pattern under her nose. “Yes?”

Adrina scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Well?”

“It would look pretty on you. I’m certain I’ve seen the princess wearing something of a similar cut.”

“And?”

“I’m sure you’ll look even better.”

“Come along, Ny.” Adrina turned on her heels and kept walking. 

Peony tried to keep up and her shoulder knocked into a dwarf’s forearm. She almost tripped when his arm shot out and grabbed her by the elbow. He kept his hand in place until she was able to straighten herself out. 

She looked up at her semi-rescuer and found that he was wearing a cloak with his hood up. Probably some lord or royal trying to be _ one with the people _and thinking it helped him blend in. Peony got her bearings and held her items more firmly and gave him a short curtsy. “Thank you, sir.”

—

“Thank you, sir,” the dam said with a short curtsy.

Before Frerin could even say anything to her, the dam turned on her heels and seemed to follow after someone, although the prince had no idea who. It was as though she had not been there at all, but Frerin could feel the slight warmth of his hand where he had taken her by the elbow. He had only seen a flash of her. Hair like volcanic stone and eyes like uncut emeralds. That was all he had noticed of her. That and her quiet voice.

Frerin blinked and then turned away to continue his exploration of the market. It was more clothes than anything that day, but he was looking for something that his sister or sister-in-law would like. Mahal laughed when he made Dís and Asta on the same bloody day. Thorin could have married anyone, but he married a dam who shared the same birthday as their sister. The two would always say that they did not need to have a big party or extravagant gifts, but Frerin had learned through trial and error that he had to attempt to put some thought in his presents to the two dams. For Dís he would probably buy her a bolt of fabric from the South. Some traders from Gondor had come that week. For Asta he would probably buy a hair pin. She had been particularly interested in those recently, if only to keep her hair from her face and away from her twenty-year-old daughter’s hands. Thank Mahal that Thora had not been born on the same day or they would all die. Three dams born on the same day connected to the Line of Durin. The Valar surely would be laughing at all their expense. 

A bolt of deep purple fabric caught Frerin’s eye. He could see his sister wearing a gown of that color. It would look vaguely pretty on her. He had no idea how she would have it patterned. For all he knew she would tailor it into a shirt for sparring. She could have it tailored for anything but underthings for all he cared, but Frerin felt that she would like the color. He gave the merchant the proper amount of money and tucked it away in the pocket of his cloak. 

He headed for the jewelry, trying to find something for Asta. His sister-in-law wasn’t _ too _picky, but he didn’t want to give her anything she wouldn’t use or wear. She had practically raised him and Dís after their parents and grandfather had been killed during the battle against Smaug. While Frerin and Dís had been of age, they had still needed guidance and care that Thorin couldn’t give with his duties as king and the reconstruction of the mountain. 

“Pretty sure you aren’t supposed to be here, Frerin.”

The prince _ tisked _ and turned to look at Dwalin. “I’m _ not _not supposed to be here,” Frerin countered. 

“You’re supposed to tell someone when you want to go out,” the guard said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’m just buying Dís and Asta a present for their birthday.” He smirked. “You don’t want me to tell them you stopped me from getting them their present, so you?”

To his credit, Dwalin only paled slightly. “And did you buy one for both?”

“I have Dís’ present. I need to get something for Asta. I’m thinking a hairpin.”

Dwalin looked up in thought for a moment. “She’d like that. My sister _ has _been talking about them for a while now. Saw the queen of Gondor wearing one when she and her husband visited the mountain.” The guard paused for a moment. “I suppose they were on the way I would have taken you back to the studies. Thorin wants to see you.”

Frerin grimaced. “About?”

Dwalin just shrugged. 

The prince sighed. “Lead the way.”

—

“Hello, Peony.” 

The voice came from just over the stack of books surrounding her that the dwobbit has to stand in order to see who was speaking. “Hello, Ori.”

The dam smiled. 

Peony and Ori had become fast friends after they both began working in the library. Ori was a scribe, and she had wanted Peony to be the one to bind her works. The two often ate together during their lunch breaks. They could also spend hours talking about history and books, which Peony’s ain’t and uncle barely tolerated and Ori’s older brother approved. The two were thick as thieves in a way. They were both small and a little odd by dwarrow standards, but their friendship was strong and true.

“Have you got something new for me, Ori?”

“No,” the dam smiled, “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m rebinding one of the old tales of Durin the Deathless. It’s a fascinating read, especially the part of his wife. I think I might have found her name, but I’m not sure if it’s her name or a title. I’ll have to keep reading and working to find out.”

Ori’s eyes grew large. “You might have found the name of Durin’s wife?!”

“Possibly. Again, it could just be a title.”

“It would still be more than just referring to her as _ Durin’s wife _.”

Peony smiled. “It would. I hope I’m right, but I’m not trying to get too hopeful.” She glanced at Ori. “And how are things with a certain guard?”

The dam blushed. “It’s not really going. We just talk.”

“Talking is good. It’s a start, isn’t it?”

“It is. I’m just worried about rambling or saying something that isn’t interesting or maybe saying something stupid or accidentally insulting him or accidentally _ complimenting _him or even maybe—”

“Ori.”

“Right, sorry.” She blushed. “See! This is what I’m worried about.”

“It just means you’re comfortable around him but still a little nervous. Although I suppose him bringing in your brother isn’t exactly the most operating time to flirt.”

“It isn’t.”

“How is Nori these days?” 

“Oh, you know, getting in trouble as always. Dori is so very close to just tying him to the kitchen table, but I doubt he ever will.”

“You never know, Dori _ is _strong enough.”

“He truly is.” Ori paused. “I think he knows I’m in lo… I like Dwalin. He’s been talking to Nori about something when I’m not around and then go quiet whenever I get close enough to hear.”

“That is suspicious.” Peony nodded. “Better than them speaking badly of you when you _ can _hear though.”

Ori winced. “Adrina again?”

“Oh, she was never one to hide her disdain for me. I ruin the picture she likes to paint when I have to go out with her.”

“You aren’t ugly, Peony.”

“I’m not exactly pretty by dwarvish standards either, Ori. I’m not sturdy at all. I wouldn’t even called my body shape a build.”

“There are plenty of dwarrow who are interested in you if you got your head out of your books.”

Peony laughed. “You are one to talk.” She shook her head. “It’s probably more because I’m cousin to Adrina and they just want a closer look at her. I doubt any dwarrow would be interested in me. I’m just not the dwarrow type.”

“I hate it when you talk about yourself like that.”

“Well, I forbid you to talk about yourself like that either.” The two giggled. “Let’s to get lunch.”

—

“You’re getting rusty, nadad,” Frerin smirked as he brought his practice sword down on his brother’s shield. “You’ve gotten worse in your old age.”

Thorin rolled his eyes and pushed Frerin off of him, swinging his sword, barely clipping his younger brother’s sleeve. “You talk too much, nadadith.”

“”I talk just enough to get a better chance at beating you, my king.”

“I still won’t send you out to make a campaign for Moria, even if you do beat me.”

“Come on, Thorin! You can’t deny that my idea is brilliant! Think of what we would be able to do if we reclaimed Moria from the orcs! All that we could gain’”

“I am thinking of the cost, Frerin. It’s too high right now. Maybe in fifty years or so, but not now. We’re still trying to strengthen Erebor.”

“You worry too much about _ this _mountain, Thorin.” He blocked a hit from his brother. “Moria is ours by right.”

“You’ll understand when you have a child of your own someday. Dís agreed with me too.”

“The boys are of age, they can come if they will as well.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that. She’ll skin you alive.”

“Rather like my skin intact.” Frerin hit Thorin’s shield one more time and they ceased their sparring. “Now, I doubt you called me here just to request a match.”

“I do want to talk to you about a _ match._”

Frerin groaned. “Thorin, I’ve told you a hundred times I don’t _ want _to get married. I want to go out and reclaim lands we have lost and fight against the orcs who wander the East like a plague.”

“You’re a prince, your duty is to help strengthen our ties with other noble families.”

“Asta is of the Line of Durin and Víli was one of the elected lords of Ered Luin. We’ve enough strong ties.”

“Frerin, a prince’s duty isn’t always to do what his heart desires.”

“None of the dam’s here have caught my fancy. I’m not interested in any of them. Besides Asta and Dís, they’re all so vapid.”

“Frerin.”

“I’m fourth in line for the throne, I don’t have to feel a sense of duty to wear the crown and carry on like the rest of you.”

“You’re still a part of this family and while you might think of yourself that way, others do not.” Thorin sighed. “I already have fifteen petitions for you to meet lords’ daughters from around the mountain during chaperoned visits. I can’t just keep turning them away.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I cannot.”

“You’re the king.”

“And as the king I have to think of what’s best for my family and our people and our mountain all at the same time.”

“Thorin, I want to go out and fight. I won’t be able to do that if I have some wife who is determined to keep me at home so we _ might _have a child.”

“It is not such a bad life and Asta is not like that with me. It’s my own choice.”

Frerin crosses his arms. “I don’t want to marry, Thorin.”

His brother sighed. “Fine, let's make a deal, then. If you _ don’t _ get married by the end of the year, I will let you _ plan _ a siege to Moria and allow you to partake in the ranging parties East where you _ might _be able to fight some orcs.”

Frerin grinned and threw an arm around his brother’s neck. “Thank you, Thorin! You won’t regret it!”

“I already am.”

—

Peony straightened up her working station. She had finished relatively early that day, or at least all that she could. Rebinding a book was a long and slow process, especially with one as old as she was dealing with. It could only be handled for a certain amount of time before it needed to rest. However, she should be able to finish the book by tomorrow. Peony was very close to piecing together if the word she kept reading over and over was the name of Durin’s wife or just a title she had been given. 

If only her mother could see her now. 

“Help!” 

Peony froze and looked up. She saw a tiny hand waving on top of one of the shelves. The ladder had slid a little ways away from the hand. In an instant, Peony climbed up the ladder and found a small girl sitting on the shelf with her knees tucked under her chin.

Although Peony has never seen the little princess in person, there was no mistaking the Durin blue eyes. 

“Princess, what are you doing here?”

“Uncle Frerin forgot to come play with me,” she pouted. “He was going to show me around the forge even though my adad said I wasn’t big enough yet.”

Peony wasn’t sure if that was something the princess should be saying around someone she didn’t know, but the girl was only twenty. “Do you need help down?”

“Yes, please.”

Peony smiled and helped the princess wrap her arms around Peony’s neck and her legs around her waist. The Princess, who had officially introduced herself as Thora, ripped the sleeve of Peony’s sleeve, but it was nothing she couldn’t fix later. They carefully made their way down the ladder and, when they finally reached the floor, Peony helped Thora down, although still held her hand. 

“I’m finished working today, Princess Thora. Is there some place you would like me to take you?”

“Could you take me to my Uncle Frerin? He should be in his room now.”

Peony chewed her lip. “I think I can at least take you to the entrance of the royal wing.”

“Okay.” 

She followed behind Thora as the girl lead her confidently towards the royal wing. Peony kept her head down, as it would have been rude to just stare. She thought she would be stopped when they neared the royal wing, but no one did. She couldn’t just leave the princess alone. Even in the royal wing there could be dangerous people, so Peony continued to follow the girl until the reached a door she supposed was to Prince Frerin’s room. 

Before Peony could say anything, the girl threw open the door. “Uncle Frerin!” Thora stepped in and Peony could see her looking around the room for a person who was apparently not there. Peony watched as the princess’ lip began to tremble and tears began to bubble in her eyes. “He’s supposed to be _ here _!”

“Perhaps he’ll be here in a—”

Thora stomped further into the room and Peony came in to try and talk to her, but the girl opened a door, Peony could see led to the bath, and slammed it behind her. 

“Princess,” the dwobbit carefully entered the room and knocked on the bath door. “Princess, I’m sure he will be here soon, perhaps you should stay with your mother until your Uncle Frerin comes for you. I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten his promise.” When Thora didn’t answer, Peony continued, “Please, sweetling.”

The door handle jiggled slightly, then stopped. “The door’s stuck.”

Panic began to rise in Peony’s throat. She rushed out the door but couldn’t see anyone in the hall. She had no idea where the closest person was. The bath had been steaming slightly. What if the princess had a heat stroke while Peony was looking for someone?

“Hold on!” she called. “I’ll try to find something to pick the lock!”

Quickly and carefully, Peony began to search the prince’s room for something to help the princess. 

—

Frerin had his shirt off by the time he turned the corner of the hall to his room. He was exhausted and sweaty and no one would see him so it didn’t matter. He was finally free. Frerin was _ not _ going to marry before the year was out and he would be allowed to go on ranging missions against orcs and even _ plan _a siege on Moria. Life was going his way and he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him. 

His smile slipped off his face when he saw that his door was open. Frerin narrowed his eyes and entered the room. He saw a dam searching around his room. Not wanting her to escape, he closed the door behind him. 

“What are you doing?”

The dam froze and looked up at him with wide eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, seemingly in shock. 

“What are you doing in here?” Frerin rounded on her until he stood in front of her and began to stalk forward. 

She backed up away from him as he continued to press forward. “I–I was just–the princess she—” The back of her legs apparently hit the edge of his bed and she reclined back away from him. “The princess is stuck in the—”

Frerin was standing in front of her and he could see that she was trembling, her hand over her breast.

“Housekeeping.”

The two turned towards the door and they saw three maids coming into the room. The three dams looked at Frerin and then their eyes went to the dam leaning against his bed with him towering over her. Just then, it dawned on him what this might look like. 

“Wait–This isn’t—”

“Excuse us, your grace.” The three curtsied and quickly retreated and closed the door behind them.

Neither of them moved for a long, awkward moment. 

The door to the bath banged open, catching the prince’s attention. “Uncle Frerin!” His niece shrieked. 

He turned to look back at the dam who had been leaning against his bed, only to find her gone and the main door shutting very quickly behind a flurry of skirt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feed the author and comment! Lol


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small note: Changed Lorin’s name to Thora.

_ Frerin didn’t have much when it came to things that made him feel close to his parents. His adad had always focused more on Thorin and his amad had always focused on Dís. He didn’t begrudge his siblings for his parents slightly obvious favoritism. He had been closer to his grandfather before the sickness had begun to seep into his very bones. _

_ Before gold, Thrór had valued knowledge. _

_ Frerin remembered his grandfather walking him through the great library and telling the little prince of all the knowledge the dwarrow had collected. _

_ “Knowledge is power,” the king had said. “It helps us move forward so that we won’t make the same mistakes as those who have come before us. It is something that we can all have, even the smallest of the dwarrow can hold the most interesting pieces of knowledge.” _

_ There had been a dam that was often in the library when Frerin and his grandfather came. Although her clothes showed that she was only a low ranking scribe, she spoke to the king about her small discoveries. The king would listen to her with a smile on his face as she uncovered a word that had been lost and then found in an old book from centuries before, a birthday of some great dwarven hero. _

_ It had all seemed a little boring to Frerin and he couldn’t understand why his grandfather even talked to the dam. _

_ “It matters, Frerin.” _

_ He has the forethought to not say it in front of the dam. “But it doesn’t matter.” _

_ “You never know when information and knowledge might be useful. While you will not be king, your brother will need you, as will our people. It’s the duty of those in the Line of Durin to preserve our people’s memory, but also to continue to improve the knowledge already given to us.” _

_ Frerin did not have much when it came to helping him remember his parents. _

_ Frerin wasn’t sure how knowledge could be power since nothing had stopped the dragon from coming and destroying their home and his parents and grandfather, but the dam from the library had at least given him one thing. Her name had been Bel and, although he hadn’t seen her again after the battle. He had, however, written a small personal account of what happened in the battle. _ The Last Hours of a King _ , focused on how his grandfather had been able to snap out of his madness and had gone back into the danger zone to rescue those who might not have been able to get out. The way the dam spoke of his grandfather was pure poetry, showing all the goodness that Frerin remembered of his grandfather. It wasn’t some great epic, but it was a piece of his grandfather that he would always be able to keep. _

_ It was a knowledge that, even under the effects of gold sickness, Thrór was a good dwarf who cared for his people, even at the detriment to himself. _

—

She was going to _ die. _

Die of embarrassment. 

Peony just _ knew _her face was redder than her hair. 

She had seen the prince half _ naked _ . Just the thought of it made her heart pound like a hammer to an anvil. She hadn’t even seen her _ father _ without his shirt because hobbits were not in the habit of walking around half naked even in their own _ rooms _ . Now she had seen not just any chest, but the _ prince’s _chest. 

Broad. Tan. _ Hairy. _Muscled. 

She could just die. 

If Adrina ever found out, Peony just might get murdered. While dwarrow were more into showing off their bodies, it was in the training yard and it was _ rare _for princes to show their chests unless they were already courting or wished to begin courting or during a very rare ceremony that happened once every century. 

His _ chest. _

Peony was going to die of overheating if she kept thinking about it. 

Durin blue eyes glaring at her. 

_ Oh. _ He probably thought so little of her. She had felt like an ant. She knew she was small, but she had never realized _ how _small. 

She raced through the halls of the mountain and out of the royal wing. There was no way she was going to return home. She found herself in front of a cozy looking door and began to knock as politely, but loudly, as she could. 

“Coming!” the familiar voice of Ori came from the other side. The door opened and her friend’s eyes widened in surprise. “Peony, what are you—”

She threw herself into the dam’s arms and started crying from embarrassment. Ori froze for only a moment before she pulled Peony inside and closed the door behind them. The dam ushered the dwobbit further in and sat her down in an old overstuffed chair. Peony could see Dori standing in the kitchen entrance looking concerned as Ori handed Peony a handkerchief. 

“What happened, Peony?” Ori asked gently, sitting down next to her. “What’s gotten you in this state?”

It was only then that Peony realized her dress was in disarray. Her sleeve was torn and she knew her hair was more wild than usual. She dabbed at her eyes before blowing her nose. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m… I’m okay, truly. I… I’m just so embarrassed.”

Dori brought her tea and sat down on the other side of her. “Tell us what happened, dear,” he said, making sure she took a sip of the chamomile tea. “In your own time.”

Peony took a steadying breath before telling the pair of siblings what had happened. She began with finding the princess and then the maids coming in. “It probably looked so wrong. I wasn’t truly on his bed, I was leaning, but he was far too close and he was shirtless! I don’t even remember seeing my father shirtless. Ever! Hobbits don’t even go swimming without their shirts. It’s why I never go to the lake. It’s so embarrassing!”

“You two were by yourselves?” Dori practically squeaked. His cheeks were flushed pink.

“The princess was in the bathroom so it must have looked like that, but surely everything will be fine considering—”

“If the maids say nothing you should be fine.” Ori chewed her lip. “But this is the biggest gossip since the queen began wearing looser clothing and that was _ years _ago.”

“It doesn’t help that you have a very distinctive look, dear,” Dori added. “Your hair is quite famous. Most dwarrow with hobbit blood don’t look quite so hobbitish as you do. If the maids do gossip it won’t take long to figure out who you are. It might ruin your reputation.”

“_ Reputation?! _” Peony blinked. “But if they just waited—”

“From what you’ve described it would look pretty bad and it would only get worse from there.” Dori shook his head.

“But…” If everyone just waited even four months they would see that nothing had happened. 

“But what was the prince thinking?” Ori almost growled. “Even though Peony wasn’t doing anything, he should have gotten a guard or something! And intimidating a dam enough to make her back away from him!”

“It was more that he wasn’t wearing a shirt,” Peony admitted. She had never been close to a chest like _ that _before. Broad and tan and hairy. She was going to overheat just at the thought of it again. 

“Even so!”

“Ori.”

The dam crossed her arms with a huff.

“Perhaps it is not so bad,” Peony said hopefully. “Perhaps they did not get a good look at me or perhaps something bigger will happen.”

“I doubt it.” 

The three looked up to see Nori standing at the door entrance. The thief stepped in and closed the door behind him. His hair was down that day, meaning he had been thieving since his usual style of hair was fairly recognizable. 

Peony could feel herself flush. 

She would never admit it to Ori, but she had always fancied her youngest brother. While he was a ruffian and a thief, he was one with a code of honor and a goodness in him that was so easy to find if one just looked. No, she would never admit those small feelings for Nori to her friend. It wasn’t proper and she knew the dwarf saw her only as a friend to his sister, probably even as an extra sister he needed to look after. She had no hope of it going anywhere. 

Just like last time. 

“Have you _ heard _ something, Nori?” The mithril haired dwarf asked. 

“I’ve heard a few things.” He took off his cloak and hung it on a hook. “It’s already reached the king, or at the very least the queen. She does run the royal household after all.”

Peony paled. “But nothing happened!”

“It doesn’t matter, sweets,” Nori shook his head, coming into the room to get closer. “It _ looked _ compromising, therefore it _ is. _”

“But nothing happened.”

“I believe it,” Nori nodded. “We all do, but it doesn’t matter what three dwarrow of a less than respectable branch of the Line of Durin and a dwobbit think. What everyone else thinks matters more. And it’s not going to be good.”

“Well, what’s going to come of it?” Ori asked. 

“Right now the gossip is just in the royal wing, but who knows where it will go tomorrow.” Nori shook his head. “I doubt either party will be thrilled.”

—

The second he was called into Thorin’s study he _ knew _his brother knew. 

He had hoped to have more time to think of something, some way to get out of it, but there was no chance of him figuring out anything now. All he could hope for was that Asta would be on his side and they could all figure out something together. 

Frerin knocked on the oak door. 

“Come in.”

Taking a deep breath, the prince opened the door and stepped inside the office. He grimaced when he saw, not only his brother and Asta, but Dís and Víli as well. He supposed it was a good sign that the boys weren’t there. They were barely adults so they should have been, but Frerin was eternally grateful that they weren’t. They’d try to lighten the mood and that would just make it worse. 

“I just gave you the ability to _ not _marry and you do this?” Thorin sounded more resigned than anything. 

Frerin scowled and closed the door behind him. “A strange dam was in my room and I was trying to figure out why. _ Nothing _happened.”

“That’s not what the maids say,” Asta said with an arched eyebrow. 

“Well, they’re wrong. Nothing happened. Ask Thora. She was _ there. _”

“But the maids didn’t know that and they’ll just assume we’re lying so you don’t have to marry some random dam who snuck her way into your room.” Dís folded her arms. 

Thorin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “While Thora does say she had been the one to bring the dam into the room, it doesn’t change anything. We have it barely contained now, but it _ will _get out.”

“Nothing happened, Thorin. I don’t even know the girl!”

“Peony Baggins.”

Frerin’s heart stopped for a second as the spymaster stepped out of an actual shadow. Mahal he was going to murder someone from shock alone at how he even managed to get in the room. 

“Is that her name?” Asta asked. 

“Aye. She’s my sister’s friend.” Nori crossed his arms and kept his blank gaze on Frerin. “She’s a dwobbit from the Shire. Her mother was the daughter of a minor lord of little consequence. Her father was a hobbit from a rather respectable family.”

“Was?” Dís asked. 

“Died a few years ago. Her father of old age and her mother of heartbreak. Her father’s family sent her here because she wasn’t of age yet and they thought it best to be around people who aged like her.”

Frerin supposed their reasoning made sense. 

“And she’s living with her mother’s family?” Thorin asked. 

“Her uncle and his wife and daughter. She spends most of her time in the library, where she mainly rebinds and transcribes old book. For the rest she tails after her cousin and usually prefers to spend time with my sister. She’s a good girl. Doesn’t deserve what you’re all going to make happen.”

“I don’t care who she is!” Frerin snapped. “I’m not marrying her!”

Dís smacked the back of his head. “You are a Durin. You do not put dams in compromising positions and then let their reputation lie in tatters.”

“We can just make sure it stays contained!”

“Unless someone wants to announce they’re having another child, it’s not going to stay contained,” Nori snapped. “Peony has a distinctive appearance. People will _ know _who she is. Her reputation will be ruined if something doesn’t happen soon.”

“It’s not my—”

“It _ is _ our problem,” Thorin cut in before Frerin could say anything else. “While you might not be looked upon favorably if we do nothing, you won’t be the ones who have to live with the shame. What if that had been Dís?”

Frerin’s stomach turned into a knot. He would have throttled Víli if his brother-in-law had done something like it had appeared he had. Thorin probably would have been the first in line before him. And this girl, this Peony, didn’t have any brothers and just one uncle to look out for her in such a way. The other half of her family had sent her to the mountain to be with people who were more like her. 

“I can’t marry her, Thorin,” Frerin said more quietly. “It’s not fair. To either of us.”

His brother sighed. “Sometimes life isn’t fair to any of us.”

—

“Peony Baggins!”’

She winced at the shrill voice of her Aunt Brina practically shook the room. The dwobbit stood from her place in the study her uncle rarely used and gave a small curtsy. “Yes, Aunt Brina. What may I do for you?”

“What’s this I hear about you spending time with those awful Ris?”

“Ori is my friend,” Peony said quietly. “I had a… difficult moment at work and I went to Ori’s home to talk things over.” Even if they could only hope that nothing came of the _ Incident. _

“They may be of the Line of Durin, but they are lowly folk, not befitting of anything from a girl who has even an ounce of firebeard blood in her.”

“Ori is my _ friend _. It doesn’t matter that she—”

A sting of a slap shot through her cheek so hard that tears pricked her vision. “Her mother never even married and bore three children of different fathers. I will not have you sully our name!”

“I’m an adult,” Peony said, lifting her chin. “I’m of age. You can’t tell me what to do!”

Another slap and Peony had enough. 

She pushed her way past her aunt and stomped to her room. She slammed the door and began to pack. She’d spend one day with Ori and then go back to the Shire. Surely there would be some family in Dale that would be willing to take her when they went off trading to Gondor. Then she’d find a way to get in contact with the king, her mother had made friends with him, surely he would be able to get her back to the Shire. She didn’t care if everyone she knew and loved would age more rapidly than she would. Her father had been with her mother and Peony doubted her mother had ever regretted it. 

Peony folded what little clothes that she owned and shoved on her best walking boots. She wouldn’t need any shoes in the Shire. She just needed one pair. She packed away her books and her notes and anything else she thought to be important. She packed her amad’s book last. 

She just couldn’t stay here anymore. Her mother’s family had always kept her around with disdain, but they had never hurt her physically. This was the last straw. They wouldn’t be able to hurt her emotionally, physically, or otherwise.

She would go back to the Shire, no matter how much it hurt to see _ him _again. Maybe she would split her time between the Shire and Ered Luin. Anything would be better than Erebor. The only things she would miss would be the library, the only people, the Ris.

She would miss Ori, her only friend that she ever made in the mountain. She would miss Dori who had become like a father to her, more so than her uncle had ever tried to be. She would miss Nori with his slow smile and sense of humor. She’d miss them all. 

Peony picked up her bag, which wasn’t much anyway, it wasn’t as though her family had given her much in the ways of worldly possessions. She looked around her small room and took a deep breath. 

“Goodbye room.”

Peony made her way to the door and opened it, only to find Dwalin on the other side, his hand raised as though he were about to knock. 

“Peony!” her Uncle Nar shouted. “Where do you think—”

She watched as Dwalin took in her appearance, of the possible bruise growing on her cheek, of the traveling bag in her hand. Then he looked her in the eyes almost a little sad. 

“What can I do for you, Dwalin?” she asked softly. 

“I need you to come with me, Peony,” he said gently. “The king wants to see you.”

—

Frerin waited in his brother’s study as Dwalin had gone to collect the dam he was going to marry. Apparently the guard knew the girl too. The prince had actually received a short glare from his brother’s friend before he left to retrieve her from the wing of minor lord’s homes. 

“Thorin—”

“No, Frerin. It needs to be done.”

“But you just gave me permission yester—”

“And things have changed since yesterday. If you were more a dwarf of thought than action, you would have realized the consequences of being in a room with a dam shirtless with the door closed. You should have gone to get someone.”

“I wanted to know—”

“And now you do, but at a price. I will not have you sully a girl’s reputation because you weren’t thinking. If you want to do any of the things you want to, you’ll have to discuss them with her after the first half year of marriage.” A knock came to the door. “Who is it?”

“Dwalin.”

“Come in.”

Frerin turned to look back as Dwalin opened the door and allowed the dam to come in first. He hadn’t really noticed what she looked like when he had last seen her. Her hair was a mass of volcanic stone curls with two braids to denote what family she was a part of and to show that she was a scribe of some sort. She held a bag to her chest as though it and its content were the most precious things in the world. Her eyes were a dull green and he supposed those were pretty. She barely looked dwarven at all. 

He also noticed the hand sized bruise on her cheek. 

A flash of anger rose in Frerin’s chest. How dare someone lay a hand on a dam, especially one so small and unsturdy. Then he felt guilt. Was it because of him? Had she been slapped because of him? For what it had looked like they had done? Was the cause of her pain him?

“Take a seat, Miss Baggins,” Thorin said, motioning to the chair Frerin was standing by. 

She glanced at the chair and her gaze flickered only momentarily to Frerin before she did as she was told, holding the bag tighter to her chest. She gave a curtsy before sitting down and staring at a spot on her lap. 

“Miss Baggins, do you understand why you are here?” Thorin asked gently. 

“I was in Prince Frerin’s rooms and someone saw us in a position that looked compromising,” she answered softly. 

Frerin recognized the softness of her voice, but he couldn’t place it. 

“Yes, and do you know what that means.”

“I was planning on leaving the mountain anyway,” the dwobbit said. “I want to go back to the Shire.”

“I doubt what had happened will remain as only Erebor gossip,” Thorin said. 

“Shirefolk would see that nothing happened,” she said it with such certainty that Frerin almost believed her. 

“Perhaps, I don’t know enough about your people to agree with you, but dwarrow would not see that at all.” Thorin folded his hands together. “I can’t let you leave, Miss Baggins. As your king and as the head of my family I cannot, in good conscious, let you leave with the reputation you will have as word of what appeared to have happened will spread.”

“What are you asking of me?” 

She seemed so small to Frerin and he remembered Nori saying how young she was. Mahal, she was younger than Kíli by a decade. He was almost old enough to be her _ father. _

“To protect yourself and the honor of Durinsfolk, you and my brother must marry before the month ends.”

“Surely if we just wait—”

“I’m sorry, Miss Baggins, but it is the only thing we can do.”

Frerin could see her bottom lip tremble and he felt horrible. He should have thought things through. If he had, neither of them would be in this situation at all. 

“Is there someone you’re sweet on?” Frerin asked softly. He knelt down next to her. “Perhaps a dwarf or hobbit that might—”

“Frerin.”

She shook her head, ignoring Thorin’s interruption. “I’m not some great dwarven beauty.” Her voice was so certain that he wondered who had told her so. “No one is interested in me in that way.”

“A hobbit—”

“There is no one I would marry back in the Shire, not under these circumstances. No one would.”

Frerin sighed. “Thorin, could I speak with her alone?” His brother gave him a sharp glare. “Or at least privately. You and Dwalin can stay, just let me talk to her without you actively listening.”

Thorin sighed and nodded, standing to go speak with Dwalin. 

Frerin stood again before kneeling at her feet. She looked up at him through her thick lashes. She was pretty. True, she was not the epitome of dwarven beauty, but there was something pretty about her. Frerin would have at least stopped to get a second look at her if they had crossed each other in the marketplace or in the halls. He took one of her hands in his and he could feel her stiffen. 

“I know this isn’t what either of us want,” he squeezed her hand gently. “But I will try to be a good husband to you.” Mahal, she was practically a child. “At the very least a good friend. As a princess of Erebor, some things will be expected of you, but I’ll do what I can to help you. I… there are things that I hope to do someday, and I have no doubt there are things you wish to do as well. We can try to do those things even if we are married. I will never ask you to give up your dreams or anything like that. I have dreams of my own and I hope you do not wish to keep me from them. I doubt you would.”

She looked at him, her eyes wide. Mahal, they were like uncut emeralds. Untapped beauty that had yet to be crafted into the jewels they could be. 

“We might never be lovers who share a marriage bed, but we could be friends. Would you be my friend, Miss Baggins?”

“Peony,” she replied softly. 

“Pardon?”

“If we are to marry, you can just call me Peony.”

He smiled sadly and squeezed her hand again gently. “Would you be my friend, Peony? Would you be my wife?”

She searched his eyes, as though looking for his sincerity. She seemed to find it for she squeezed his hand back. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter. I’m still trying to world build. Hope you guys enjoy Frerin. He’s trying to be “mature.”  
And yeah, Frerin IS older than Peony. I want to say he’s probably one hundred and seventy so about twenty years or so younger than Thorin and probably a decade younger than Dís. Fíli and Kíli are older than Peony and they will show up in the next chapter (Probably).

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @fromtheboundlesssea
> 
> I always post chapter updates and occasionally post gifs that make me think of fics! I also always answer questions, even anons!


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